Free From Black Rooms by Stephen Woodworth

mischief resurfacing on her face. "Oh, you know Simon. He's so stubborn, he'l outlive us al --and won't that be ironic!"
    Natalie laughed. Like his late brother Arthur, Simon McCord had been an instructor during her training at the School. Simon believed the ability to summon the dead was a gift from God, and so he pressed al Violets to do their duty with fanatical devotion. He was so obsessed with keeping this world in touch with the next that Natalie could easily see him living forever through sheer obstinance, never moving on to the noncorporeal existence he extol ed as the "True Life." Simon now spent much of his time on a large ranch in New Mexico, serving as mentor and religious guru to a group of handpicked disciples, of which Serena was his star acolyte.
    "By the way, congrats about the Munch," she said. "I hear it went for five mil ion at Christie's."
    "Oh...yeah. Thanks." Natalie repressed a groan. The real-estate agent who'd paid her fifty grand for the finished version of Munch's Self-Portrait as a Woman had turned around and auctioned it off last week for a hundred times what he'd paid for it--an astounding sum, considering that the painting lacked the Corps's imprimatur of authenticity. "Too bad I don't get either the money or the credit," she said to Serena.
    "I knew it was you in that picture the moment I saw it in Newsweek," her friend assured her. "And I knew Munch couldn't have done it without you."
    "That and three-fifty wil buy me a cappuccino. Speaking of which, you wanna come inside for some coffee?" Natalie indicated the condo. "I'm such a caffeine fiend now, I even bought an espresso maker-" Serena shook her head. "I can't stay. I just needed to talk to you."
    "Business or pleasure?"
    "You know it's always a pleasure, girlfriend." Serena's smile faded. "But I'm afraid it's business, too. I found out--"
    "Mom?" Cal ie had opened a door of the Volvo and leaned out to cal to her. "Can I see Serena, too?"
    "Oh! Sure, sweetheart." Eager to postpone any bad news, Natalie motioned to Cal ie, who bounded out of the car and practical y tackled Serena with a hug around the waist.
    The visitor laughed and ruffled the girl's hair. "How's my favorite goddaughter? Stil remember those moves I showed you?"
    Serena held up her open palms, which Cal ie rabbitpunched in playful sparring. She finished by jabbing one foot sideways toward the target in a somewhat clumsy kickboxing maneuver.
    Serena whistled and clapped. "That's my girl! Why don't you go inside and take those shoes off while I talk to your mom, and then we can practice a few minutes on the living-room carpet?"
    Cal ie beamed. "Al right! But you better watch out!" Serena struck a defensive pose. "I'm ready for you." Cal ie jabbed the air a few more times and ran on into the condo.
    Serena shook her head and chuckled. "I swear that kid's a foot tal er than the last time I saw her."
    "That's what happens when you only show up once every two years." Natalie folded her arms, bracing herself for the news. "So why are you here?" The gravity of Serena's expression deepened the lines of her face. "It's Evan. He's gone."
    Evan. The vagrant outside the supermarket: his face drawn long with simmering resentment, his shoulders hunched as if to shelter the match flame of his life from the high wind of the world. The realization col apsed on Natalie with the suddenness of a cave-in, and she nearly dropped to the ground beneath its weight. "I saw him," she breathed.
    Serena stiffened, tensing as if for fight or flight. "You what?"
    "Just now...at the grocery store. I saw someone I thought--" She tried to shake the idea from her head.
    "Are you sure? I thought the Corps had sealed him up for good, dead or alive."
    "They did. But you know Uncle Simon. He trusts the Ndouble-A-C-C even less than they trust him. He didn't think the bureaucrats could handle a Violet who kil s other Violets, so he paid informants at Corps
    headquarters to keep tabs on Evan. A few days ago, they